San Gabriel

San Gabriel is the new forward-thinking beat project from the multi-instrumentalist/producer Butchy Fuego. His upcoming album VOLFE is full of warped and pulsing pan-global club music; a signature marriage of tropical riddims, dubbed out soundscapes, and modern R&B minimalism. Striking the perfect balance of booming bass and tricky rhythms, VOLFE makes for some serious sideways heat. Minimal in their framework yet vibrant in detail, San Gabriel tracks have their own recognizable style.

While many of the percussion samples may mimic the sounds of machinery, the programming is very far from mechanical with impeccable drumwork that only a seasoned drummer can pull off (Fuego also performs and is a touring member of the legendary Boredoms and was a founding member of Pit Er Pat.)

press

leftfield, tight electronica so captivating and original that it has been on heavy hard drive rotation basically the whole week now.

- No Fear Of Pop

San Gabriel has revealed his plan of attack out for you, and the only way for you to decode it is if you throw it on the floor and dance all over it.

- dublab

Stylistically, the record runs the gamut from spindly, Casio-tone hip-hop to uptempo bass mutations. “Club Mate,” presumably a tribute to the German energy drink, marries Nintendo melodies and elephant cries to speedy, fractured breakbeat techno; “Can’t Work” sounds like a woozy, kaleidoscopic fusion of juke and dancehall reggae. There’s a distinctly globalist perspective at work, roping in elements of cumbia, moombahton and South African house; “Montaña de Tormenta” (which translates, coincidentally, as “Mountain of Torment”) is a kind of super-charged, kuduro-inflected U.K. funky that reminds me a little of Portugal’s DJ Marfox. All in all, it’s a smart, inspired record that blazes its own trail.

- spin

Batalla Ultima’ is anything but normal, and functions as an effective concision of Fuego’s masterfully strange ear for rhythm, and the width of sounds he’s exploring as San Gabriel. Tropicalia drums and moombahton riddims are all present but none in quite the way you think. ‘Batalla Ultima’ builds itself to several peaks across its three minutes, twisting only a few elements into strikingly different configurations